PRISONER OF TIME 2 © 2008

Which beaches the waves enchant,

Where the muses, of rare beauty,

Astonish the eyes that gaze upon them,

In the magic that they declare.

On the island of weakness, they seduce,

With their sweet and subtle song,

The innocent who, without realising,

Submit to the feverish charm.

Infinitely they dance, lost,

In the waters that sing in vain,

Like puppets, they are led,

By the spell that binds them to the ground.

The waves, accomplices of deceit,

Kiss the sand with tenderness,

While the muses, in a sweet plan,

Enchant, leaving a fissure in the soul.

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